Ruth Prawer Jhabvala

After his second heart attack, the judge knew that he could no longer put off informing his wife about the contents of his will. He did this for the sake of the woman he had been keeping for twenty-five years, who, ever since his first attack, had been agitating about provisions for her future. These had long been in place in his will, known only to the lawyer who had drawn it up, but it was intolerable to the judge to think that their execution would be in the hands of his family; that is, his wife and son. Not because he expected them to make trouble but because they were both too impractical, too light-minded to carry out his wishes once he was not there to enforce them.

Kishen’s university friends at Cambridge completely understood when he talked to them about the sort of novel that should be written about India—the sort of novel that he wanted to write. The thing was, he explained, to get the integers right, to be sure that these were sunk into the deepest layers of the Indian experience: caste-ridden villagers, urban slum dwellers, landless laborers, as well as the indecently rich of commerce and industry.

It was the girls who first brought him here. I call them “girls” because of their girlish temperaments, though they were almost middle-aged. Maeve was by far the more emotional of the two, with a habit of turning her pale-blue eyes upward like a saint or a martyr. Betty was sturdier, with a square muscular body to anchor them both. They shared an old house in the town, one of those run-down, peeling places that smell of mold inside. During the two or three years I had known them, their goodness had made them take up several needy causes in the town: pregnant teens, abandoned families, boys caught stealing for drugs. One time, they sheltered a suspected sex offender, which made them very unpopular; when he turned out to be guilty, they remained unrepentant, unshaken in the faith that they had done the right thing.

Dinesh never became a famous writer, but he did become a writer, and he published several novels. I translated one of these from the original Hindi into English and tried to get it published here, but I was told that the background was too unfamiliar to be of interest to an American audience. Of course, it was very familiar to me; I had actually lived in New Delhi and was not only a witness to the principal events but a part of them.

In their youth, in India, Farid and Farida had been exquisite, small-boned, elegant, quick in mind and body. They fell in love and went to college together in Delhi, where they were friendly with Sunil, who was fat and ungainly. Farid and Farida got married and moved to London, where they tried to set up a business importing hand-loomed Italian textiles. This failed, as did the other businesses they tried. After fifteen years, Farid was drinking and Farida stayed out late and went away for weekends. They separated and hadn't seen each other in twenty years when Farid heard that Farida was now a holy woman sitting under a tree in the Himalayas. People from all over India came to take blessings and good vibrations from her. Farid found Farida on the mountain, looking elegant. She made it seem as if she had been expecting him, even after twenty years. He was led to a small, clean house and was treated as an honored guest. Each day he'd meet with Farida and his visits became longer and more intimate. He expected a showdown since they used to fight a lot. One day, Sunil, who had become very rich, showed up on the mountain. He came to get Farida started in business in London, planning public appearances for her. Farid wanted to go away with her to a cave up in the mountains. Farid and Sunil went for a walk and Farid almost killed Sunil, but relented in time. Sunil and Farida left for London. Farida waited for Farid to come, but he decided to wait for her in India. He knew it might take a long time, but when she came at last he would say, "Let's go up, Farida," and, after the inevitable argument, she would agree.

Story set in India told by an older brother about his younger brother, Bablu, who was executed for murder and kidnapping. Bablu is thirteen years younger than the narrator, and his pet, although the wife mistrusts and dislikes him. Bablu is small and silent, a loner who dresses well but never goes to cafes with the other boys. Once or twice the wife catches Bablu stealing money but the brother overlooks it until Bablu stabs the wife in the arm and runs away with all the cash in the safe. They cover up Bablu's crime to the family, and at first are glad he is gone. Then the narrator begins to miss him, and offers a reward for his return. Two years later Bablu does return, with a sinister pale-eyed boy named Sachu. The brother is glad to have Bablu back, and that he has a friend at last so he tolerates Sachu and even pays him the reward money. From a popular movie the boys get the idea of kidnapping a rich officer's son and holding him for ransom. They kill the boy and are eventually caught with his roller skates — they never dare to pick up the ransom money. At the trial Sachu claims to have killed the boy out of frustration at this education and ability to argue, and Bablu says he did it because he was jealous of Sachu's physical attraction to the boy. Both are hanged and the brother decides to distribute their ashes over a river together, although the family disapproves and will not participate in the funeral rites.

When Minnie looked in the mirror she found that she looked very much like her Polish-Jewish grandmother. She was small and plump and also happy, and it showed. Sometimes she had to conceal her feelings from her daughter Sandra, who was miserable and resented her mother's good moods. Sandra was blond and beautiful. Her parents Minnie and Sam had done everything for her and Sandra had married Tim, whose family of combined Dutch and Scottish ancestry, had 300 years of American history behind it. When Sam died Minnie sold off everything that Sandra didn't want and went to live in a hotel on Central Park South. It was just to be a temporary measure till she found some place suitable to live. Sandra was bored and occupied herself with selecting possible apartments for her mother. Minnie had a couple of young homosexual friends – Ralph and Mickey who were very attentive to her. They spent a lot of time with her and also looked for apartments for her. She enjoyed their company and freely spent money on them. When Sandra began quarreling with Tim, she spent more time with her Mother, and the boys were not as comfortable with her around. Then Tim followed Sandra to Minnie's hotel suite and the two of them were often there. Minnie took to visiting the studio apartment occupied by the boys. One day Sandra told her mother she was pregnant. She and Tim were happy. Sandra could not understand why Minnie was not more enthusiastic about becoming a grandmother.

Susie and her husband, Boy, are on Nantucket for the summer with Susie's mother and Boy's many male friends including Terry, who was Boy's favorite last year, and Hamid, this year's favorite. Everything circles around Hamid. Mother and Hamid flirt. She is ecstatic; he laughs at her behind her back. When Boy discovers Mother and Hamid in the dark, he argues with Hamid. Boy is so upset Susie wants to stroke his head but knows he'd be mad. Boy leaves for a day because his sister, Evie, must be committed again. While he is gone, Susie burns some jam and takes a sleeping pill, which she always does when he's gone. Hamid and Mother are fondling each other on the bed as she drifts off. When Boy returns, he runs to meet Hamid on the beach and Mother is disgusted. That night, Mother insults Boy's sister. Terry taunts Boy about what happened while he was gone. When Susie is putting Mother to bed, Mother cries. She tells Susie Boy married her for her money. Later, Boy comes in to tell them about Evie. Mother offers to send his family money and to live with Boy's mother. Maybe Susie and Boy will adopt a child, she says. When Hamid comes in, everybody changes. Boy invites him to walk on the beach and Mother dresses frantically to follow. Terry and Susie watch the other three from the porch. "I don't know how you stand it" Terry says. Susie says she doesn't mind. She wishes people would quit telling her what she can stand and what she can't. If she can love Mother for the way she is, she can love Boy.

Stella is a wealthy woman with a richly furnished home in Murray Hill. She knows she is dying. She has a man to keep house for her, a former waiter named Paul. He is considerate and devoted. So is her niece, Dora, who visits regularly and holds her mother, Stella's sister, at bay. Paul and Dora want Stella to be surrounded by people who really care for her in her last illness. They are suspicious when Annette comes. Annette and Stella had been close friends until Annette broke it off 8 years earlier by humiliating Stella in public then taking off for London with a male friend. Now Annette resumes her former relationship with Stella –one of physical affection. They have breakfast in bed together. When Stella gets worse, Dora moves into the house and Annette moves into Stella's bedroom. She entertains Stella with talk of a romance between Dora and Paul which is not taking place. Annette seduces Paul. One night Annette is in bed with Paul when Stella calls out. Annette is indifferent. She tells Paul that Stella is a parasite: she needs Annette to show her how to enjoy her money by spending it on frivolous things. Paul answers Stella's call. Dora comes too, wondering why Annette hasn't answered. She sees Annette in Paul's doorway, nude. While Paul gets Stella's pills, Dora phones her mother and tells her now is the time to come.